Fool’s Quest

FitzVigilant did not, however, take the revelation that he and Shine were siblings in stride. To my surprise, he did not discard his bastard’s name to take Chade’s surname. He subjected us all to several weeks of morose quiet. When seated near Shine at table, he kept his eyes on his food and contributed nothing to conversation. I was grateful that Chade took most of his meals in his room and that Shine frequently joined him there, for the old Chade would have quickly discerned Lant’s discomfort. The looks he sent after her when they passed in the corridors were too transparent for my comfort. I dreaded stepping in but just when I was certain I must, Riddle intervened.

One evening he steered Lant firmly to a seat between us and demanded he discuss the virtues of his favorite taverns in Buckkeep Town. That led to a late-night expedition to visit three of them. At the end of the night, all three of us staggered back to Buckkeep Castle together. At one point as we all but groped our way up the dark and icy road, Lant burst out with a wail of “But no one understands what happened or how I feel!” Riddle rounded on him and said bluntly, “And that is the most fortunate thing that can befall you, or any of those you care about. Put it behind you, and think about it again in twenty years. Whatever it was, you can’t change it. So stop clinging to it, and let time and distance do their work.”

I trudged along beside them in the dark. The night was cold enough that my face felt a stiff mask. I tried to think, but then Riddle began singing the old song about the woodcutter’s son, and after the second verse both Lant and I joined in. When Lant came to the table the next night, he announced he had spent the day fishing in an open boat and had caught a flatfish the size of a small child. I was unendingly pleased when I saw Nettle give Riddle a very special smile over Lant’s bent head as he set upon his food with an appetite we had not seen since Winterfest.

So the slow moons of winter ticked past us all. I was more alone than I had ever been in my life and it suited me. It was a solitude that I cultivated. I let nothing touch me too deeply. Alone, I made my plans. With a hunter’s heart, I waited for winter to fade and better traveling weather to come. I wrote several very long letters, one for Hap, one for Kettricken, and another to Nettle and Riddle. I considered writing one to my unborn grandchild and decided I was wallowing in sentiment. The one to Chade was hardest, for I wondered if he would ever read it with a whole mind. Like Verity, I signed and secured my missives and set them by.

I endured each day, waiting, as slowly broken things began to heal. My Skill came back to me, in tickles of chance thought and then in whispers. I used it as little as possible at first, respecting my daughter’s advice and wishes in that regard. Then I exercised it, but rigorously, in tight sendings to Thick, or a general comment to Nettle. I became aware of the various coteries within Buckkeep, and shamelessly listened in when their sendings were careless. I built my Skill-discipline as systematically as I rebuilt the muscles of my body and my fighting skills. By day, I took my bruises in the practice yard, and by night I practiced throwing knives and materializing poison from my cuff. I watched for the weather to grow kinder for travel and I waited for myself to grow deadlier.

Every creature entrusted to my care, I settled into safekeeping. The crow was a jocund addition to the Fool’s chamber, for Perseverance brought her daily to see him. She was company for the Fool in a way no human could be, and at times I almost wondered if they did not share a thread of the Wit. She picked up words from him as a pigeon pecks up corn. Despite his blindness, he endeavored to teach her tricks, and I was never so astonished as I was on the day when he told her to “take Fitz’s spoon” and she promptly hopped across the table and stole it for him. Motley did not seem to respond to my Wit, but her language and responsiveness were those of a Wit-bonded animal. She puzzled me.

As for Fleeter, I had little use for a horse while I lived in the castle. I still visited her sporadically in the stables. Several times, I found Patience leaning on the door of her stall, apparently admiring the horse. So I was not surprised on the day that Fleeter swung her head toward me.

My boon?

Ask it.

I’ve found my partner. See that I stay with her.

Done.